


Worth something

by TheJediAssassinGirl



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Kind of a soulmate au but also. Not, M/M, Sad Crutchie, Two drug use, based on Newsies live, bc I love those boys, tw needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 03:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19939300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJediAssassinGirl/pseuds/TheJediAssassinGirl
Summary: In a world where soulmates are government assigned based on optimal child production, disabled people like Crutchie are seen as less than worthless, but after Crutchie goes through re-education, getting thoroughly broken, there’s someone waiting for him on the other side.





	Worth something

“You’re worthless,” the monotone voice came through Crutchie’s headphones, just as it did every day. This had been the routine for a long time. Crutchie had lost track of exactly how long it had been, but it had to have been at least a month since he’d been taken into re-education for kissing his best friend Jack. The world he lived in was ruthless and unforgiving. The government assigned you a soulmate based on genetics and who you would make the best children with. Of course, this meant that disabled people like Crutchie were considered less than worthless. If you were caught kissing anyone other than your government assigned soulmate, you were taken to re-education, where you were strapped into a straight jacket and locked alone in a plain white room while a monotone voice came through a pair of headphones.

“You’re deformed,” the voice continued. “You’ll never find love. Who would want you? You’re hideous. Disgusting. A waste of space and resources.” Crutchie simply nodded along. It was all true. He didn’t deserve love. He didn’t deserve to live. Suddenly, he was grabbed and pulled out of his cell. The straight jacket was removed, and he was unceremoniously tossed out onto the street. For the next few days, Crutchie numbed the pain in whatever ways he could. Drugs, alcohol, medications, anything he could get his hands on, he used. He knew he wouldn’t last long, knew that he was poisoning his body, but he didn’t care. He knew no one else would either. He lay on the ground, an empty syringe next to him, a drug called Serenity running through his veins. Serenity was a brilliant blue liquid that provided the user with a sense of deep calm. It came with a risk, however: the drug claimed the life of one out of every twenty people who injected themselves with it. Laying on his back, Crutchie gazed up at the stars, the same view that he and Jack always used to look at. The memory of his time with Jack forced its way through the drug-induced haze and pierced Crutchie’s heart. He missed Jack, but he knew Jack didn’t miss him. He was probably enjoying a cushy life with his soulmate, the president’s daughter, Katherine. Crutchie longed to see Jack one more time before he died, feel Jack’s warm, strong arms around him, hear him say—

“Crutchie?” A familiar voice reached Crutchie’s ears. Sluggishly, the Serenity slowing his reaction time, he looked up. There, standing above him, was Jack Kelly, Crutchie’s lover, his best friend since preschool, the most gorgeous boy in New York City. 

_Stop it,_ Crutchie scolded himself. It wasn’t really Jack. It couldn’t be. It had to be a hallucination. There were so many different substances in his system, there had to be some adverse side effects.

“Crutchie, can ya hear me?” Not-Jack asked, starting to sound panicked. A warm, rough hand shook his shoulder, and Crutchie gasped. No hallucination could do that. Jack pulled him up into a fierce bear hug, and Crutchie realized with a jolt that the other boy was crying.

“I’m sorry,” Crutchie managed to get out.

“Sorry? For what?” Jack asked, and the floodgates opened. 

“You deserve better,” Crutchie said, his words slurring a little. “I’m worthless. Damaged. Deformed. Hideous. A waste a space and resources. I don’t deserve love. I don’t deserve ta _live_.” Jack gaped at him, horrified.

“What’d they do to you?” He asked. Crutchie’s head lolled onto his shoulder. Jack spotted the syringe. “Oh, _Crutchie_ ,” he said sadly. “What— why were ya— of all the drugs ya coulda used, why _that_ one? You _know_ the risks, Crutch!”

“I don’t care,” Crutchie replied, his voice hollow. “Neither does anyone else. I’m better off dead.”

“Stop it!” Jack cried. “ _I_ care! You ain’t worthless! You’s worth somethin’ ta me, ok? An’ you’s gonna be alright.” He scooped Crutchie up in his arms. “You’s gonna be alright,” he repeated.


End file.
